


Not Yet Time

by MissUrlaub



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 10:39:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1223254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissUrlaub/pseuds/MissUrlaub
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean hasn’t asked Sam about Cas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Yet Time

Dean hasn’t asked Sam about Cas.

Not that it has been easy; every time his brother’s phone beeps with an update from the angel the questions pile up on Dean’s tongue - “ _How is he getting on_?”/“ _Where is he right now?_ ”/“ _Tell him to take care?_ ” - ready to tumble out. And every time Sam looks up at him from the text, something like a challenge in his eyes, Dean swallows the questions down, turns away, and pretends not to have noticed.

If Sam wants to keep their relationship strictly business, the older Winchester has no right to care about any of those messages and he knows he has no right to care about Cas, not after pushing him away one time too many.

So Dean doesn’t ask Sam about Cas when the latest text makes him exhale a huff of quiet laughter, even though it’s harder than all the times before.

 

Dean hasn’t called Cas, or texted him.

Not that he hasn’t wanted to. A hundred times he takes out his phone and fumbles with the buttons, types out a hurried text - “ _You doing okay, buddy?_ ”/“ _I got something to tell you._ ”/“ _When are you coming back?_ ”. For the hundredth time since he left his brother and his angel standing on that bridge his thumb endlessly hovers over ‘send’ and finds its way to ‘delete’ instead. He tucks his cell back into his pocket. He has no right to care. He doesn’t.

 

Dean hasn’t thought about Cas. (That’s a lie.) Not much. (That’s another.)

But when he stares at the ceiling of yet another dingy motel room or his staff bedroom at the spa, when Sam’s light snoring as he sleeps with his back turned to his older brother is the only sound he can hear; then Dean can’t help but let all the questions - “ _Do you need my help_?”/“ _Would you pick up if I called?_ ”/“ _Can you forgive me one more time?_ ” - and all the pleas - “ _Talk to me._ ”/“ _Let me know you’re alright._ ”/“ _I need you._ ”/“ _I need you._ ”/“ _I need you._ ” - run circles in his head until he’s dizzy with frustration and longing and guilt.

Dean thinks about Cas. All the time. But he doesn’t ask about him, and he doesn’t call. So he can pretend, ridiculously, just for a moment, that Cas doesn’t have to be a part of any of this, that Cas has a chance to escape the poison that is Dean Winchester.

It’s only a matter of time until his resolve crumbles.

 

“ _I need you._ ”


End file.
